


Star-crossed Threads

by ippoteq



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drunken Confessions, F/M, House of Antiqua, House of Zanza, Hurt/Comfort, Know I feel your pain, Love Triangles, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Princes & Princesses, Red String of Fate, Romance, So if it hurts to read, Spoilers, Starcrossed Lovers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, late-game spoilers, love square, this hurt to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ippoteq/pseuds/ippoteq
Summary: The Royal Wedding is set to be the event of the century. When young Duchess Melia of House Antiqua marries Prince Shulk of House Zanza, it will unite two of the world's greatest forces, and put an end to rumours of tensions between the two Houses that could be leading to all-out war.Lord Alvis has come to accept it is his lot in life to see his soulmate married off to his childhood best friend. Prince Shulk, however, has other plans for his future that come in the form of Lady Fiora, with whom he talks about their plans to escape this life and start anew. Duchess Melia simply wishes that Shulk will come to see her not as an offering of peace, but as a loving wife.It seems to them that their fates are sealed. And yet, there are many threads still left unravelled, twisted together in a web that is bound to leave some hearts full and others hopelessly broken.
Relationships: Alvis/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Fiora/Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles), Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Shulk
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Star-crossed Threads

Alvis declared to no-one in particular, “I want to talk about politics and love.”

  
“Oh don’t start, you old fool,” Melia called back from the other end of the room. She was nursing a headache, rubbing the bridge of her nose with a thumb and forefinger. Around her sat empty glasses and decanters, silver dishes piled high with dirty plates and half-drunk bottles of liquor. There were remnants food littered about on china serving plates - the stalks of what had once been mixed colour bunches of grapes, crumbs of a selection of cheeses and scraps of meat, hunks of pillowy soft bread besides petite bowls of half-eaten stews. Imagining it all was enough to make Melia sick. Almost as sick as it would make her to have to listen to Alvis drone on about his romantic life, or lack thereof.  
“Oh, Melia dearest. Love is a terrible, woeful thing and if I don’t share that with someone I’m afraid I’ll lose my mind.”  
She wished he would stop being melodramatic and get down from her furniture. Only moments ago he’d been dancing around on her four-poster bed and now he was making his way up and down the table, nimbly dodging the scattered silverware. At least he’d had the decency to take off his shoes first.  
“Darling, you’ve already lost your mind.” Melia broke out in a coy smile, followed by a fit of giggles, groaning a little as her head throbbed, “But please, don’t start on me now, I’m frightfully tired.”

Alvis sighed and clutched at his chest, “Duchess, am I not your muse? Do I not inspire you with my words? Or am I simply a jester whose emotions you would so wilfully toy with?” He stumbled artfully backwards along the table and flung himself down onto the bed, burying his head amongst sheets and pillows. Standing up from her chair made Melia feel giddy and she wobbled her way over to the bed with a lack of grace that would have made her mother scowl. The soft downy sheets cushioned her as she collapsed into bed beside Alvis, looking at him with a mixture of pity and amusement.  
“Alright, you’ve intrigued me. I’ll think of it as a bedtime story to send me off to sleep.”  
His disgruntled ‘huff’ practically echoed, “Now she’s intrigued, now my soul is bared. Well, little Duchess, I have higher standards than to demean myself for your amusement.”  
Melia found it difficult to contain her laughter, speaking through a smirk, “You’re drunk, Alvis. You’ve been demeaning yourself all night.”

The two lay peacefully side-by-side for a while, long enough that the sky outside Melia’s window turned a lovely shade of pink with the arrival of dawn. By the time the sun was peeking over the horizon, Melia found herself with her head resting on Alvis’ chest, the pair of them looking out over the castle grounds and the fields beyond them, off into the middle distance where the very edge of the sky met with the Eryth Sea in an invisible line. Melia couldn’t recall when she’d last felt this calm, even with the gentle thud of her headache still present. No doubt it was thanks to the fog of alcohol that she was this comfortable; the pair of them were still in last night’s partywear, Alvis’ shirt crisp beneath her head from having been steamed and ironed to within an inch of its life, and her corset tied until one more tug on its drawstring would crack a rib. Yet she was still dozing off, catching herself only as Alvis cleared his throat.  
“I’ve decided that even though you sorely hurt my feelings, I ought to tell you what had me so riled earlier.” There was a gentle seriousness to Alvis’ tone and it was all Melia could do to force her eyes not to close. She made a noise of agreement, though it was so quiet she doubted he’d actually heard it, as he started on his spiel.

“You see, Melia dearest, I’ve found myself in a rather pitiful situation. I am in love, without a shadow a doubt, with someone who will never love me back…” Alvis paused for a reaction but Melia simply blinked up at him with her sleep-laden eyes. He sighed, then continued, “You think I’ve turned on the dramatics again. I assure you, I have not. These are not momentary feelings, passing through me on a whim like a sudden breeze. They came over me slowly, as love often does.”  
Melia looked to her shoulder where Alvis had rested one of his hands. He was making nervous circles with his index finger, prickling ticklish sensations in her skin. In all her memories with him, she couldn’t place another time she’d seen Alvis behave this way. She turned to him and did her best to show that she was listening intently.  
“At first, I simply tried to ignore them. Then it was no longer a case of ignoring them, but actively fighting them off at every turn. And you know, Melia, that fighting love is like fighting with the tide: a drawn-out battle that you have already lost. It’s just a matter of how long you stay afloat before you succumb.”  
“You ought to write this down, Alvis, it would make a beautiful poem.” Melia said in earnest. Alvis scoffed a little, shaking his head. She couldn’t help but notice he was avoiding her gaze.

“Duchess, I am in tatters. I know not what I should do with myself,” His voice broke. A soft laugh followed, “Look at me, a complete mess. And I haven’t even made it to talking about politics yet.”  
“What does politics have to do with love?” Melia responded bitterly, “God knows we’ve been tortured by our upbringing, but you’re a Lord, Alvis, with your own motives and autonomy. They may not like it, but you don’t have to listen to the decisions the Empire makes for you. If they present you with a suitor that isn’t to your tastes, you can simply do as you please. No-one would be brave enough to stop you, not even father.”  
“It’s not as simple as that, my dear. Yes we have our own politics to deal with but the world itself is run off of inane concepts and blatantly foolish rules, as though people go through life as unfeeling robots.”  
“Then is it about feelings? Status?” Melia prodded, “Let’s not be modest, Alvis, you could have any girl in the world that you wanted, feelings and status aside. Besides, if it’s any of the girls I’ve seen you speaking to, they’d be desperate to have you, and lucky to boot.”  
Alvis’ breath hitched a little as he said, “What if I were to tell you it isn’t a girl who’s caught my interest?”  
“What damn difference does it make?” She replied without hesitation, “I can think of plenty of boys who’d fall over themselves to have your affections, just the same.”  
“...Not this one.” Alvis said forlornly.

At that, Melia picked herself up, her headache making itself known again as she returned to a sitting position, “Alright, enough with the childish games. Out with it. I’m not going to pry you with questions until you eventually let it slip.”  
Alvis propped himself up against the bedframe to better meet her gaze. She watched him scan her face, studying her expression, pondering what to say. Now that they were facing one another, she could see the redness of his bloodshot eyes.  
“You can tell me,” she said in almost a whisper, “You know I wouldn’t speak a word of it to anyone.”  
A sad smile spread over Alvis’ face.  
“Let me give you one last hint, don’t give up so easily. It’s a man I’ve been meeting with since the both of us were young, but in the last few months I’ve been seeing more and more of him. When I’m not seeing him I’m hearing about him, or writing letters on behalf of the House to him. In fact, it’s nigh impossible to escape him, even here in the safety of my own home. You see, in a matter of weeks, he’s due to be married.”

Melia didn’t need him to finish. She felt her face flush red and her mouth go dry.

“He’ll be married, Melia, to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is already killing me and it's barely begun...
> 
> I did this during the break between my next chapter on my Stardew Valley fic, which I will be getting back to shortly!
> 
> I hope y'all like this, I have huge plans for it in future!
> 
> (Yes this is just an excuse to write for EVERY ship, don't @ me please)


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